


We're gonna dance in my living room slave to the way you move

by cutebutpsyco



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 Fills [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ballet, Christine Palmer is a good bro, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Powers, Pre-Relationship, Tony Stark Bingo 2020, Tony Stark just lost his parents, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22209364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutebutpsyco/pseuds/cutebutpsyco
Summary: TONY STARK BINGO 2020 || CARD 3056 || FILL: T2 CARNIVAL ||“I… Fuck... “ He whispered.“You’d like to dine and wine and take him out on a date, don’t you?” He could tell she was smiling and didn’t like that at all. “I think he likes you, but you’ll need him to trust you before even trying. Or he’ll run away. And then I’ll personally kill you.”Tony laughed. “How did you make him trust you?”“No, you won’t have the get out of jail card this soon, Stark.”
Relationships: Christine Palmer & Stephen Strange, Christine Palmer & Tony Stark, Christine Palmer/Stephen Strange - platonic, Kaecilius & Stephen Strange, Stephen Strange & Wong, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598716
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	We're gonna dance in my living room slave to the way you move

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNINGS:** mentions of eating disorder, alcohol and drug abuse and death. 
> 
> Ok, new Tony Stark Bingo Card that I'll eventually publish somewhere and this means that I'm back to my mission of empty my inbox. This fic takes its moves from the anon on Tumblr who asked me: _"An AU where Stephen is a famous, brilliant ballet dancer and Tony falls for him after seeing one of his performances. (Maybe add in some angst too with Stephen overworking himself or something)"_ but, as always, it took his own way so it's not exactly the prompt. We have a lot of angst, a lot of Christine being the best friend someone could ask for, and an open ending. 
> 
> This fic is set somewhen around January/February 1997 which is why we have faxes, slow internet connections and overuse of landline phones. In 1997 I was 2 years old so I have very foggy memories about that time of my life, let alone of the world around me, so this will contain a lot of inaccuracies too. Also, I've never been to Coney Island and I have no idea of how Luna Park there is.  
> Tony is 21, Stephen is around 18 and Christine is 17, just to have an idea of their ages. Also, I studied ballet for a lot of years so all the information and names of the passes in this fic are things that actually exist. I stretched a little bit the prompt considering Luna Park = Carnival just because I could 
> 
> Not betad and nothing belongs to me. Title from Only Human by the Jonas Brothers.

Tony had no idea how he got stuck in the uncomfortable seat of the theatre, but he knew that it was probably his mother who brought him the ticket and someone else who forced him into a suit. He guessed either Rhodey, or Happy or Obie had a voice in that, but he didn’t care who that person was and now he was looking to the two empty armchairs at both of his sides, knowing too well that these were at his parents’ name.  
He didn’t care, pretended not to, he couldn’t tell, both were starting to seem terribly similar in his mind, maybe thanks to the drugs and the alcohol. 

He tried to focus on the show in front of him instead of the empty chairs and the whispering of people who recognized him. Maybe he should have asked Rhodey to come with him, maybe it would have been better, but he didn’t want to face his best friend and couldn’t even trust one of his usual one-night-stand dates either. That wasn’t some shitty part in an upper-end pub, that was a high society event. The music brought him back once again, and Tony’s dark eyes ran on the stage and, for the first time since he entered the theatre, he finally focused on the show in front of him; namely the ballerina and her partner.

The girl was a pretty thing, pale skin, chestnut hair and a body everyone would have killed for, with impossibly long legs. Her back was bent, held at the height of her waist by the young man’s strong hands which were supporting all of her body, turning at the same time on himself.  
He, though, was even more a work of art. Lean body, full of elegant muscles in places where people didn’t even know they had muscles, muscular legs clad in a pair of dark leggings and bare feet that didn’t have any right to look sexy. Tony couldn’t see either of their faces if not their silhouette, but they were definitely pretty enough for his standards to make him wish to have followed the entire ballet since the beginning. 

Only when the music started to fade the man stopped to turn on himself, stalling for some instants with the ballerina over his head and only when a rainstorm of claps started to descend on them he finally lowered her so that she could touch again the stage.  
They both smiled to the audience, while the man’s arm went around the girl’s waist, pulling her closer in a kiss on her cheek. She smiled once again, taking his hand and leading them both out of the stage. 

Tony stilled for a second while people around him started to stand up, then turned to look at someone who seemed to be from the theatre: “The last piece, who were the dancers?”

The man looked at him with confusion evident in his eyes, but then seemed to recognize Tony because he rapidly provided an answer: “Christine Palmer and Stephen Strange, they are the first dancers of the American Ballet Theater. Are you feeling well, Mr Stark? Would you like me to call you a car?”

Tony shook his head, running a hand in his hair before going back looking at the man. “No, I’m fine… I have to ask you something, though: I need to meet them.”

\--

Christine smiled, throwing her towel at Stephen. “You did it on purpose.”

“Did what?” Her best friend and dance partner asked her, looking as much innocent as he could. Which wasn’t a lot, considering that he knew exactly what she was speaking about. 

“The cambré press lift, you waited until the last available moment to lift me.”

“That’s because I do actually care about you and wanted to show everyone your real elevation, not that crap you usually do with the others,” Stephen smiled, taking a long sip from his water before starting to take off his pants. It wasn’t like Christine hadn’t seen him naked, anyway, and their bodies were more like instruments than bodies. “You should thank me.”

“First of all, next time tell me before. I really thought you were going to… I don’t even know, drop me or something. And second, Nic is a good danseur. Help me with this and let’s go drink something, will you?”

Stephen decided not to answer to her, moving closer so that he could help her out of her tutu and hopefully both of them out of the theatre before their entourages could catch on them. Stephen ran one of his long fingers against Christine’s pale skin while lowering the soft silk of her tutu and a moment later she was just in her bra and panties. 

“You know, someone might start to speak about this,” He said, indicating himself in nothing but underwear and his best friend’s attire. She reserved him one of her soft smiles before winking.

“Let them speak,” She answered. “I’ve been in this world far too long, and for once I find someone with whom I really enjoy spending time with, I don’t even care what other people might say.”

Which, well, it was a fairly good point if you ask Stephen. She was smart, funny, and gifted with just the right bit of sarcasm to understand Stephen’s jokes and keep up with him. She was ambitious, and a perfectionist, just as much as Strange himself was. She was technique and elegance, and their bodies seemed to understand each other perfectly on and off stage. She was the best prima ballerina Stephen could ask for. And also the best of friends he could ask for. That was the reason he dared that much during the performance.  
And something like that was what he wanted to tell her if the door of their changing rooms wouldn’t have opened revealing a man from the security of the theatre.

“I’m sorry,” The man said, taking in their clothes or, better, the lack of them. “Somebody asked to speak with you both.”

“Tell them we are coming,” Stephen said, even if it was clear that he was everything but enthusiastic at the idea while he wore a pair of bleached trousers and an oversized sweater. Before heading out, he looked in the mirror and stylishly dishevelled his hair, then waited for his friend to be ready and followed the man back in the theatre main hall. 

The last person both him and Christine were waiting to find in front of them was Tony Stark. Stephen had never met Stark, but he knew who the twenty-something spoiled guy in front of him was. Well, everyone knew that, and Stephen was sure that he had heard his mother, someone who seemed really interested in ballet, and didn’t just go to the theatre because it was what rich people did, speaking so long about her Tony once they were at the same party.  
Of course, Stephen didn’t remember a word of Maria’s, but the face of the man was all over scandalous magazines and newspapers in recent days, so it wasn’t like he could pretend not to know him. He just wasn’t that good with people and knew he was stalling the moment Christine saved him. 

“Mr Stark,” She said, extending her hand for the man to shake. “My condolences, I’ve sadly never met your father, but your mother was a great woman, I’ve been so sorry to hear of what happened to them.”

“You wouldn’t if you’d known him, Miss Palmer,” He answered, bitterly. Yet it was clear that the ending side of the tone the billionaire used wasn’t Christine and Stephen relaxed almost imperceptibly his jaw. A moment later, the other man was wearing an easy smile and his brown eyes shone in something akin delight. “Not that I’m here to speak about them, anyways. I wanted to speak with you both. So, I guess, introductions are in order, even if I’m sure you both know who I am.”

If Stephen remembered well, and he hardly ever didn’t, the Starks died something closer to weeks than months before, and yet the man in front of him seemed to be completely unaffected. Stephen found himself wondering if he had been the same when his father died. Or Donna. Only the thought was enough for his focus to become blurred, so he decided to introduce himself properly.

“And I think you know who we are too. So, I’d rather jump to the part where you ask us what you wanted to so that we can take a shower and get the hell out of here,” Post-shows were always the part that Stephen loathed the most about his otherwise loved job. It wasn’t only because of the tiredness, the sore muscles and the adrenaline boost, it was the fans and the photos, and rapid interviews from Ballett journals and questions about his net project. Stephen hated to have to speak with people. He was so good at communicating through dance that he hoped he could just avoid the verbal part of it.  
Stark looked at him for one-second longer, then clasped his hands together and moved on easily: 

“Great, I see we are on the same page, Mr Strange. I’ve never been a big fan of this, always ditching my mom when she wanted to drag me to see one of these ballets of hers. Fuck, I think I’m here now just to prove her I can sit still for… how long was it? Ten hours?” Christine’s fingers intertwined with his, and Stephen silently thanked her because he was so going to punch the man in the face, otherwise. “Anyway, the point is you two. You are mind-blowing. So, if you ever happen to do something like this ever again, I’d like to, you know, be there. Maybe we can discuss it over a coffee, anytime. You don’t have to feel obliged or everything. And if one of you is already questioning their relationship with the other because of me… I’m not really sorry.”

He extended two business card giving one to Christine and pretty much throwing the other in Stephen's face who was ever grateful for his reflexes. He could see that behind her usually calm expression, his best friend was laughing her ass off while all Stephen could do was simply staring at the card and back to the now leaving billionaire. 

\--

Tony looked at the few pictures that were charging on the monitor in front of him, curing the super slow internet connection and deciding that he should find a way to speed that up. The fact that it was the first idea he ever had in the past couple of months didn’t mean anything to him, not at that moment. 

It was the scanner of some newspaper, he couldn’t recognize which one, and showed the young couple he met some days before. Stephen Strange’s arm was wrapped around Christine’s waist, their heads tilted toward each other, foreheads touching. He didn’t even feel guilty for printing the pic. He couldn’t even tell who between the two he found more attractive. And, again, he didn’t care. He threw back his head, taking another sip of his whiskey, looking at the silent phone.  
He never gave his personal phone number to anyone, and he didn’t even know what he was expecting them to do. He was starting to ask himself why he gave them his personal business card. He wasn’t expecting to receive a phone call and knew they were probably too busy with rehearsals and the likes. And he didn’t even know why he thought that was a good idea to speak with them in the first place.

Maybe Obie was right, maybe he should just stay close in the house and throw party after party while he let the man do everything else. Meeting people was starting to be just a show of how destroyed and out of control, he has become. He turned to take in the hotel room where he was staying. It was an actual mess, empty bottles thrown everywhere on the floor, the smell of alcohol and sex permeating the entire suite and the remains of his and his friend for night’s entertainment. Tony ran a hand in his hair, knowing far too well that he should have asked for her name so that someone from Stark Industries could pay her for her silence. But he couldn’t even bring himself to remember her face. So he went back looking at his portable landlord phone. 

And apparently, it chose just that right moment to ring. At first, he tried not to set his hopes too high: it was probably Obediah who asked him about either his new inventions or to take part in some gala or charity event and he didn’t even want to answer. Then he remembered that the man could become easily irritable when Tony ignored him, and that was the last thing he wanted from the only stable figure in his life. 

“I have a headache and no memories of what happened after the ballet,” He answered. “So whatever you want to tell me about Stark Industries should wait until… Next couple of years, I think.”

“Mr Stark?” A soft voice replied from the other side of the line. And, immediately, he connected it to the young girl in the picture he printed some moments before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s Christine Palmer. I spoke with Stephen and we are having some public rehearsals today before I leave for London so…”

And well, Tony Stark wasn’t the kind of man to ignore Lady Luck when she showed up at his door. “Yes, sure, just tell me when and where.”

That was how Tony found himself in a gym and understood that public rehearsals mean that, actually, it was just him and an old lady to watch Christine, Stephen and a man he supposed was their choreographer. And, once again, he couldn’t even start to explain how magnetic and mesmerizing the two of them were.  
Christine seemed to walk on a different plane from the rest of humankind, all grace and elegance, while Stephen combined the same elegance she had with a sort of secret strength. Silent and passionate, ecstatic and electric. He could tell that the entire room was filled with music, but he couldn't hear that, hypnotized by the two dancers in front of him. 

It was only when he heard Stephen’s deep voice say something and Christine’s soft laugh that the magic was broken and he moved from the spot he has been for the past… He had no idea how long it lasted if he had to be honest. He decided to move closer, just to say hello. 

“Oh, so you came?” Stephen called for him, and if Tony thought his moves and steps were magnetic he should find another adjective for his eyes because they were kind of freezing him on the spot. Such a hot young man shouldn’t have those eyes on top of everything. 

“Sure, Christine told me she was leaving for London, I had to say goodbye,” He smiled. He didn’t even know if it was a credible lie, but he didn’t care. She called him, so that meant that the girl wanted him to be there. “How about we go out and eat something so we can, you know, get to know each other better? It’s on me, of course.”

Again, he didn’t even know what time of day it was, but he wasn’t like he needed to be lunchtime to eat something and after all the physical work they did, they were probably starving. 

“That’ll be great!” Christine said, just in the exact moment when Stephen replied with a short: “Not hungry.” Followed by an intense glance from the ballerina. 

Tony couldn’t tell what that meant, but he knew there was something behind, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Well, we can go somewhere else and take some churros on the way, or, I don’t know, hamburgers. Do you guys eat that stuff?”

“Do you mean junk food?” Christine’s voice was clearly borderlining a joking tone, while Stephen seemed to be extremely tuned out from the conversation. Tony knew that it was better not to force him. He could recognize that empty glance, he knew he wore it more than not in those days. “Sometimes we can indulge in it, yes.”

“You can go to the restaurant,” Stephen said, still definitely far away from the conversation happening in front of him. “I promised Wong and Kaecilius I would have worked with them this afternoon. They have some ideas about the opening piece of their exposition and they need me anyways. I’ll drive you to JFK tomorrow,” He smiled an empty smile to Christine and placed a kiss on her cheek, almost brushing their lips together, then he turned to look at Tony. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr Stark. Maybe we can meet again.”

“Yeah, sure,” Was everything Tony was able to say, before looking at the man walking away. “And call me Tony, please.” He couldn’t tell if the other man heard his yell-whisper, turning a moment later with another PR smile on his lips to look at Christine. “So, I know a nice place in Manhattan. I’m sure your head of the Four Seasons.”

Christine nodded, and Tony was well aware that she was going to protest or say something about the astronomical bill even before they set foot into the place, so he just smiled at her, extending his arm and waiting for the ballerina to follow him. “You know, one of the best things of being an orphan billionaire is that you don’t have to answer to anyone’s question about how and why you spent so much money on stupid vices. Not that indulge a pretty girl isn’t a good vice to spend in, and I know for sure my father would have agreed. At least when he was my age.”

\--

Christine was funny, smart, pretty and there was something which was troubling here in the depths of her hazel eyes. On Tony’s book, she was probably the perfect companion for a one-night-stand. And yet he couldn’t think about taking that highway exit. Even when she assured him she wasn’t with Stephen in that sense. 

“He’s my best friend,” She said when he asked. He didn’t understand the relationship and not understanding wasn’t something Tony worked well with. “And, yes, maybe we crossed that line, but it’s just… much more than that. It’s like we understand each other deep in our… it’s stupid, I don’t even believe in these, but… deep in our souls, I guess. Do I love him? Yes, but not as a lover. It’s reductive, in a certain way.” 

And Tony, somehow, could understand what she meant. Because he felt the same, for Rhodey. Yes, maybe he and his best friend crossed that line only when they were in college when Rhodey found out he was as straight as an arrow, but Tony was his exception if that was what Stark wanted. He found himself wondering. He knew that he couldn’t sacrifice that friendship for some good sex and a shoulder on which cry. The latter, well, it was there, would have always been there for him. So yeah, while everyone else would have said that it was craziness, he could understand Christine’s words. 

She ran a hand in her hair, a soft smile playing on her lips before she focused back on her salad. “I’m sorry, I’m doing all the speaking and I’m honestly speaking a lot about Stephen, that’s probably the reason why you asked about us.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Tony smiled back at her and knew that this was his sincere smile, not the one that he reserved to press and photo shootings. “I’ve never been into ballet, and I know I’ve been sort of rude last night, but what I meant is… you two, you are really great. I’d like to keep in touch with you, even if you’ll go to London and I understand…” 

“One of the most intelligent and brilliant persons in the world is asking me to be friends, of course, I’d very much like to, also, if you want to come with Stephen and me, tomorrow morning… I mean, if you don’t have any pressing meeting or something.”

Tony nodded. He didn’t remember if he had some meetings, but he didn’t care, Obie could fill up for him, he knew the man was still in California, but they invented phone calls for a reason and it wasn’t like someone was really expecting for him to show up anyway. They spent the rest of the lunch speaking about nothing and everything and after that, they went for a run in Central Park which wasn’t something Tony had ever planned to enjoy as much as he did. 

\--

The next day, after having drove Christine to the airport on his brand new Audi (Stephen pouted a lot when he didn’t get to drive, but he showed at Christine’s place with a Lamborghini and the three of them didn’t fit on it), Tony suggested for them to go to have breakfast and, once again, Stephen replied that he wasn’t hungry. 

The harsh “I’m fine” he received back from the man when Tony’s glance landed on him told an entirely different story, but Stark decided not to enquire further and they settled for coffee instead. 

They spent way too long in a god forgotten Starbucks near the gym were Tony went to see Stephen and Christine the day before, both nursing big cups of black coffee and, for the good part of it they just stared at each other, thrilled by who was going to break that sort of game they seemed to fall into, but silence has never been something Tony was comfortable with. Despite everything, though, he found it slightly more normal just to seat on the boot and stare at Stephen. Maybe it was because he seemed like a work of art, ethereal and far from the now and then they were living. 

“So, ballet?” He asked, as to break the silence something around half an hour later, or what seemed to be so long. “How did you end up doing this?”

For a beat of the eye, Tony could see sadness cross the other’s eyes. He shook his head, running a hand in his dark hair before focusing on everything but the man in front of him. “It’s a long and sad story, not something you’d like to know. If you want to know how I got that good, though, well, years and years of practice.”

He took a long sip of his coffee and Tony understood he wasn’t going to speak further about that. “I have my good spare of long and sad stories, I know, you couldn’t even suspect,” Tony smirked and found out that speaking with that man was easier than he could even picture speaking with everyone else. “I met you and Christine in the middle of one.”

“Your parents,” Stephen answered matter-of-factly. Tony knew it was pointless to lie, the news of his parents’ death was all over the newspapers and everyone was aware that Howard and Maria Stark died the month before. A car accident, probably caused by his father driving while being drunk, Tony decided. It was an idea shared by Obediah himself and Tony knew he could trust the other man. “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t care, but I have a performance planned for tonight. It isn’t anything like what you saw the other night. Probably your being friendly was just to have Christine in your bed, and if this is the case I should warn you that if you try and break her heart you’ll have a problem with me, but if you’d like to see something different, the invitation is still up.”

Tony really appreciated the change of subject, even if he couldn’t keep for himself the bratty smile that he knew was plastered all over his face. “I can assure you Christine’s is not the only pretty face who caught my attention, Mr Stranger,” And, well, if it was a blush the one who tinted Tony could only appreciate. “I’d very much like to come and see you.” 

\--

Tony found himself spending a lot of time with Stephen, as far as their mutual agendas let them. 

The performance he went to was totally anything like the ballet he saw and it wasn’t even what he was expecting for it to be. It was set in a completely pitch-black studio, no stages and no chairs. The audience was standing in one of the corners of the studio, at the opposite side, an Asian man in his mid-twenties and a twenty-something man wearing colourful robes were moving around the empty side of the room some giant and multi-coloured lamps.  
At first, Tony couldn’t see Stephen, just numerous slender shadows in multiple colours following themselves on the dark wall. The shadows were moving accordingly to some exotic music and it took Tony twenty minutes to understand that Stephen was the person producing them, moving behind one of the walls (which Stark suspected was a fake one). He had no idea which kinds of passes Stephen was performing. All the composed grace from his performance with Christine was substituted by pure power and swift moves. He could see just what kind of magic Stephen and the two other men were performing, and the only reason why he wasn’t drooling was that he still had some spare dignity. 

He had no idea how long the show lasted, but he found himself ready to ask for a repeat in zero time when cold lights went on again, showing Strange and the other men’s faces to everyone. Stephen's chest was bare, him wearing just a pair of tight and dark trousers that did nothing to hide every single muscle in his long, long legs. His skin was shining with sweat, his hair dishevelled and going everywhere. He was smiling, pure bliss and happiness on his face. The same smile he noticed on the stage the first night he met him. He seemed younger. And Tony wished to have a camera with him just to snap a picture of the other man. 

Short after, Stephen introduced him to the two men, who were the same Wong and Kaecilius he mentioned some days before. They didn’t spend a lot of time with them, though, Stephen told him that he wanted to show him something. The glance Wong said his goodbye to Tony with let the man suspected that there was something unsaid, but he didn’t care. He just followed the other man behind the fake wall in the middle of the studio to show him whatever he was planning to. 

Toy smiled, in his hotel room, trying to ignore the memories from that night. It wasn’t only the performance which enchanted him, it was the video of it that Wong and Kaecilius recorded. The coloured lights they carried around created a real pattern around Stephen’s body once that the entire dance was captured on video. It was breathtaking, it was beautiful… Stephen was… 

“Obie, hi,” He said when the deep voice of the man picked up the phone. “Listen, I know I’m staying in New York longer than planned, but I have some serious project going on here,” It was a lie, but Tony could create new weapons in his sleep, so he would have solved that problem too. “I’ll need favour, though. You have to make a huge donation at your name to two emerging artists, I’ll let you know all the details in fax. Use Stark Industries money, but do it so that they can’t go back to me.”

“Who are you trying to bed, Tony?” The tone was playful, but also far too used to Tony’s little hobbies. 

“It’s not like that, bye.” He cut the call short because he knew otherwise he must answer questions he didn’t know the answer yet. And he smiled like an idiot while he sent Obie all the information he needed to know about the donation. He had a meeting with Stephen in a couple of hours and so decided to use that time to find a way to let the other man know it was a date… Sort of… He still didn’t know. The point was, it seemed like he couldn’t get the other out of his mind. They used to speak a lot when they couldn’t see each other, and once or twice Stephen went up in his suite.  
And, again, Tony noticed Stephe never ate anything. 

He decided to address that problem to Christine when he heard back from her. She was starting to become a more steady presence in his life too, even if she was guest in a big show hosted by an Italian danseur and was around Europe, not planning to go back in the US until the end of the year. She called one night and they started to plan almost weekly phone calls. It was between one of them that Tony told her what he noticed about the other’s behaviour and relationship with food. 

“It’s not up to me,” She said, immediately. “I don’t know if he told you why he started to dance and… It’s complicated.”

“Help me there, Chris,” Tony hated how desperate he sounded. “I’m just worried.”

She sighed. “I won’t tell you this story, it’s not mine to tell, but you saw him… Glacial, controlled. Which is great, when it comes to our job. He also can… Put his heart into it, even behind all this coldness, and that’s even better. But, he’s not good with things he can’t control. Food, human relationships… The only way he believes he can control them is to cut them off.”

Fuck! Tony stared at the blank wall in front of him, taking in the entirety of Christine’s words. Fuck! The one thing he found him and Stephen not being similar was also the most difficult to overcome for Tony. He gave up control, the only way he could stream out was giving up control. Alcohol, drugs, lab strikes, these were his ways. He couldn’t understand why someone wanted to be constantly in control and, somehow, suspected that the reason why Stephen started to study ballet was one of these. 

“I… Fuck... “ He whispered. 

“You’d like to dine and wine and take him out on a date, don’t you?” He could tell she was smiling and didn’t like that at all. “I think he likes you, but you’ll need him to trust you before even trying. Or he’ll run away. And then I’ll personally kill you.”

Tony laughed. “How did you make him trust you?”

“No, you won’t have the get out of jail card this soon, Stark.” 

When he closed the call, he felt like Christine gave him the green light, and while he wasn’t the kind of man who waited for somebody else's approval, he found he really cared about the woman’s opinion. 

It was Stephen’s turn to drive them, and Tony wasn’t surprised when he saw that the man took the same Lamborghini he planned to drive Christine to the airport with. He smiled, trying to suppress the urge to tell the other that he was the one supposed to drive. Tony didn’t do great with other people driving him around, but he really wanted to try and show Stephen that he could be more comfortable around him.  
Sure, Stephen couldn’t know about his pet peeve, but if he wanted the man to trust him, he had to be the first to trust the other. 

“Any idea where you’d like to go?” Stephen asked, drawing back into the traffic of New York. It was mid-afternoon, most of the people weren’t in the streets yet which meant that they could actually reach someplace without getting stuck in the traffic. And, well, Tony knew a place where he’d like to bring Stephen, a place that wouldn’t have forced him to give up his control, but where they might also have some real fun. 

“This will probably sound stupid, but I was thinking about Coney Island.”

Stephen raised his eyebrow but didn’t comment any further for a little bit while driving toward Brooklyn. “Coney Island? Is there a reason for it?” 

“We are not too old to have a little bit of fun.”

Stephen smiled once again, and Tony decided that it was a look that suited the man. 

Luna Park was one of the happiest memories of his first trip to New York. He went there with his mom and Jarvis, while Howard was busy with some businessmen in Manhattan. He remembered running around, unable to stay still in a simple spot for longer than two minutes. He shook his head, finding that Stephen was staring at him. They were walking on the pier, looking at the multicoloured lights from each stand played with the warm hues of the sunset. There was a sort of melancholic feel in the air around them, something that got fairly perfectly along with Tony’s own mood. 

“Hey, you ok?” The other man asked. Stephen was younger than Tony was, and yet sometimes it looked like he was wiser, older, able to read other people like Tony could never hope to. 

“Yeah, just some memory,” He answered, noticing a moment before a booth with a hand-painted sign that promised the win of a giant teddy bear. “Let’s try and win that!”

He let out a playful laugh, something that was as far as possible from the person he showed to the public. Recently, that image deteriorated rapidly and he knew that most of his appearances in public were accompanied by headlines about his drug use and parties where he entered already on the wrong side of tipsy. But he didn’t care. He was twenty-one and he lost his parents, even if he knew it was because of Howard, so people tended to not to put too much their minds into that. The fact that he didn’t go to a party since he met Stephen was an idea that was crossing his mind just at that moment. Strange’s laugh reached him a moment later. 

“Don’t look at me: my aim is terrible, ‘ve never been able to play these games. Let alone that most of them are spoiled so that you won’t win anything.”

Tony smiled at him over the rim of his sunglasses. “Well, you aren’t Tony Stark, my dear.”

The nickname just flow naturally from his lips, and if Stephen blushed again, he wasn’t going to point that out, but Tony appreciated that. Flustered was a good look on Stephen Strange too.  
In the end, Tony won the teddy bear, and they spent the entire afternoon at the luna park, trying rides and stands until Tony started to look as a promised land to the churros booth. He tried not to mention that he was hungry, considering that the last thing he wanted to do was to have Stephen put his walls up once again, but he moved slightly closer to it, trying to find a way to address the fact that he was hungry. 

Christine’s words were resonating in his mind to the point that he didn’t even notice that Stephen moved forward, reaching the stand himself and buying a churro which he waved in front of Tony’s eyes.

“For you,” He said, playfully moving the fried dough in front of him. 

Tony laughed, taking a big bite while it still was in Stephen’s hand and trying to tell him with his eyes only that he could eat the remaining part. Stephen decided to ignore him, but, at least he didn’t back off.  
Stark decided to count it as a win and they spent some more time on the pier, before deciding it was getting too cold and heading back to the hotel. Or that was the plan. If only they didn’t decide to do it the exact moment when everyone else deemed to be a good idea to take their cars. 

Once they were forced to yet another stop, Stephen’s eyes went back to the huge teddy bear they somehow managed to stuff in the back of his car and then he let out in an almost whispered voice: “My sister…”

Tony turned to look at him but didn’t press further. “You asked me why I started ballet. My sister. She loved to dance, did it every given occasion. And then one day she drowned, on my watch. I should have done something, but I didn’t know what,” He turned his eyes back on the street, doing everything in his power to avoid Stark’s glance. “She died, my parents blamed me, my brother blamed me, I blamed me. I had an Aunt in New York, I was seven at the time, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but it was near Christmas so when she came I hid in her car and I don’t she and her husband probably realized they had a castaway with them, but never told anything until we were back in New York. They never had children, and when I told them that… I couldn’t go back home because it reminded me of Donna, they took me in.”

“You don’t…”

“I don’t know why, but I want to tell you,” Stephen interrupted Tony, a sad smile on his lips. “Maybe having someone else who’s not Christine knowing this will help.”

Stark nodded. He didn’t know what to do but somehow was glad for that bit of trust Stephen was giving him. “I started to dance, in my room. It was something that made me feel closer to Donna. And then, my Uncle noticed I was good and proposed me to enter some ballet school, after that, it was Juilliard, and then the Dance Academy. I didn’t hear from my parents since then. When you have a kid who doesn’t even need to read something twice to remember it, you expect for him to become some huge academic or something, a doctor maybe…”

“Parents’ expectation,” Tony said because he could tell it was becoming harder and harder for Stephen to continue his story. That gained him a short chuckle and for Stark to better understand Christine’s words. Stephen was cold technique and heart while he danced. It was both because so was his soul. Ballet was his way to remember his sister, but he needed to control the emotional sphere of it because it would have been too painful.

They spent the rest of the drive back to Tony’s hotel in silence but when they finally reached the building, Stark knew he had to say something. “Do you want to come up?” He found himself asking, out of the blue.

Stephen’s eyes went to his clock and, a moment later, with a shy smile, he nodded.  
Tony smirked at that, knowing that, probably, he would have had a long way ahead to know Stephen better, to ask him out and to try to make him ease around him, but he knew that, maybe they could help each other or, better, that was what he hoped for. For the moment, though, he was just happy with the man being seated on one of his suite sofas, watching an old movie and nursing his cup of coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always loved and appreciated.
> 
> come to say "hi" on [tumblr](http://ironstrange-is-the-endgame.tumblr.com/).


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